


Too Many Miles

by silver_fish



Series: Of Storm and Ash [3]
Category: A Saga of Light and Dark - T. J. Chamberlain, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22738027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_fish/pseuds/silver_fish
Summary: Immediately after their graduation from high school, Nerissa is heading off on her next big adventure in California, leaving Ada and their friends and family back in New York. Lost without her best friend, all the words Ada never had the courage to say before begin to fester painfully, and all she can think is that she really should've told Nerissa she loved her while she still had the chance.
Relationships: Ada Archer/Nerissa Smith
Series: Of Storm and Ash [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634857
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	Too Many Miles

**Author's Note:**

> for a prompt i filled last april for someone in my writing server: "things you said with too many miles between us" with ada and nerissa. they’ve been aged up about a year and a half from their canon ages. as this is entirely au, there are no spoilers! please enjoy :)

“Don’t hang up yet, okay?”

Ada’s voice is desperate, even to her own ears.

Nerissa must not hear it, though, because she only laughs.

“I have to,” she says. “We’re already boarding. I _promise_ I’ll call again as soon as we land.”

 _In six hours_ , Ada thinks bitterly.

“Don’t be nervous,” Nerissa is saying. “I know it’s a long time to wait, but it’ll be fine. I’m sure it’ll be a much more eventful passage of time for you than for me, anyway.”

“You’ll call as soon as you land?” Ada presses. “The very _second_ your plane touches down?”

“Absolutely.”

And yet, it does not quite feel like enough.

“Okay,” she says hollowly. “I’ll...talk to you in six hours, then.”

“Six hours,” Nerissa agrees. “The _second_ my plane touches down.”

Ada’s chest feels very heavy. “Okay,” she says again. “Bye, Nerissa. Have a safe flight.”

A quick _thank you_ , and then she is gone.

Ada has never quite understood how Nerissa is able to be so calm about all of this. While everyone else their age was fretting over their plans for after graduation, Nerissa never once seemed to stress about it at all. Even now, boarding a plane halfway across the country, she seems entirely unconcerned, and while Ada knows that that probably isn’t _really_ the case, it still makes her heart ache.

Adrienne and Ely both seem okay with it too. Maybe, Ada thinks, they have been preparing for this day for a very long time. Neither of them have ever wanted to be the reason Nerissa didn’t follow her dreams, and so they have simply taken everything in stride, hefty tuition costs and all. But, still, they’re family, aren’t they? It must hurt them, at least as much as it hurts Ada.

They stayed with her until she had to go through security, and then they were left to watch as she marched onward, towards her endlessly bright future. After that, what else was there to do? They went home, and Ada waited for her to call, just to hear her voice one last time before she flew off into that great unknown.

Ada is proud of her, of course she is. But the next three months will be long and boring, without Nerissa there to make it anything else.

She sighs and sets her phone down on the table. From somewhere in the kitchen, she hears her father moving around, and then he steps into view and measures her with a rather concerned look.

“You look down,” he remarks.

She shoots him a wry smile. “You could say that, yeah.”

“Anything I can do for you?”

If there were any way to bring her back, then yes.

“No,” she says. “I think I just need to wait it out.”

He considers this for a moment, and then approaches the table and takes the seat across from her. “Well,” he says, “maybe there’s a way to make the time pass a little quicker, at least.”

“Maybe.” But she doubts it, somehow.

In all honesty, she probably shouldn’t be so bothered by it. Really, it’s not as if she’s never had to _wait_ for something before. Six hours is hardly anything—back when they were in high school, she would be waiting more like seven or eight just so she could get home and collapse on her bed. Or, sometimes, Nerissa’s bed, though Nerissa would be quick to shoo her off because _We have homework, you know!_

That’s just how Nerissa has always been. They all knew this day would be coming, but…

She leans an elbow against the table and lets her blonde curls fall in front of her face. “I guess,” she says, “I just didn’t want to _think_ about it, but now I’m…”

Adonis doesn’t speak, for a very long moment, and then:

“I think you’re probably not the only one.” When she glances up at him, she sees that he is wearing a somewhat rueful smile. “You know, Adrienne has never been a real _plan for the future_ person, either. She’s spontaneous, sure, but she’s used to being the one to leave people behind. Not the other way around.”

“Like Aunt Avery.”

He nods. “Maybe you should talk to them,” he suggests. “Aunt Avery can at the very least sympathize with your situation, and I’m sure Adrienne is feeling a lot less put-together than she seems.”

It’s almost a _more_ depressing reality, though, if she compares her situation with Nerissa to Avery’s situation with Adrienne. After all, Avery had loved Adrienne, but when Adrienne had finished college, she hadn’t exactly come back to Avery and returned the feeling.

She shakes her head, chasing those thoughts away. “It’s different,” she says, but she isn’t sure if she’s telling Adonis, or if she’s telling herself. “Nerissa will come back for Christmas, and then again in the spring, and…”

She trails off, because the look Adonis is giving her is far from reassuring.

When he says nothing more, however, she lets out a long exhale and stands up, using the surface of the table to steady her as she does so.

“I’ll talk to someone about it,” she says. “But for now, I just have to wait, right? She said she would call when she landed, so…”

Adonis looks up at her, expression very flat. Intentionally so, Ada thinks.

She turns away from him. “I’m going to Emmet’s.”

As she makes her way towards the door, she hears Adonis call out a “good-bye” behind her, and she offers a faint wave in return before stepping outside.

It isn’t an overly _warm_ day, but she stops to soak in the little bit of sunshine there is, anyway. The clouds above are thin and wispy, but they have been steadily gathering ever since she left the airport earlier that day. She hasn’t checked the forecast today, but she has a sneaking suspicion that there’s rain in it.

Rain isn’t so bad, though. She supposes she’s feeling a little rainy herself.

They’ve all lived close by since they were little kids. Though Nerissa’s house—old house? Ada doesn’t know if it is technically still her home, when she is going so far away from it—is a fifteen or so walk from Ada’s, Emmet is only a few doors down. Since they first met, they’ve pretty much lived half in the others’ houses and half in their own. Ada supposes, as much as Isobel, Adrienne, and Ely feel like her other parents, Adonis probably feels like an extra parent to Nerissa and Emmet, too.

She knocks on the door, though, because she has not even called ahead to ask if he is home.

Isobel is the one who answers, and she doesn’t even say a word before letting Ada inside. Ada removes her shoes, and then Isobel informs her that “Emmet in his room” before turning away again and heading into the sitting room, where Ada assumes she is probably watching a PVR’ed episode of _Grey’s Anatomy_.

Ada follows the familiar hallway down to the room she knows to be Emmet’s. This time, she doesn’t bother to knock before entering (though in hindsight, perhaps she should have, because he looks rather scandalized to see her at the entrance to his room unexpectedly), and she flops down on his bed beside him wordlessly.

He’s playing some game that she doesn’t care to look at long enough to recognize (really, it’s probably _Fortnite_ ), but when he glances over at her and sees the morose look that is surely on her face, he lets out a short sigh and pauses it.

“You’re making everything all depressing,” he tells her.

“I am not,” she says, turning over to push her face against his pillow.

“Then why are you _here_?”

“Because I want to be,” she tries to say, but it comes out more like _phmhmphmm_ and she lifts her head, irritated, to look at her friend’s all-too amused face.

“Super eloquent,” he says. “Not very convincing, though. How long is her flight, again?”

Ada turns her eyes up the ceiling and sighs heavily. “ _Six hours_.”

He seems to consider this for a moment. And then: “Okay, then. Six hours that we have to kill so you can stop pouting.”

She huffs. “I’m not _pouting_.”

“Yeah, you are. Let’s go out and do something. You’re totally killing my mood.”

Oh, yeah, his _mood_. Shut in at home playing video games.

 _So_ cool.

“Come on,” he says, suddenly impatient. “You’re gonna drag me out of the house, but you’re the one being slow? Get up and get moving. I don’t have all day.”

When did Ada say _anything_ about going out?

Still, she sits up and swings her feet back to the floor again. She stands and stretches, and he offers her a grin which she returns feebly.

“What are we doing, exactly?” she asks, because it is really impossible to tell with him.

“Distracting you,” he says, as if it should be obvious. “For six hours. Now _hurry up_.”

She does not need to be told a third time.

***

As it turns out, Emmet does manage to distract her for most of the six hours. They go to the arcade, and then to the mall, and then they are forced to run through the rain back to the subway station because neither of them bothered to check the forecast, and so neither of them are in any way prepared for the weather.

Sometimes, Ada catches her mind wandering to Nerissa, but Emmet is quick to notice and always interrupts her thoughts with some outlandish suggestion or other, trying to convince her to go into weird shops or weirder restaurants, and eventually she lets herself laugh and smile, even if it does feel like half her heart is a plane halfway across the country.

They return to Emmet’s house at the end of the day, and Isobel cooks both of them dinner. While they eat, Emmet recounts their day to her, and she tells Ada that she really should be more adventurous in her food choices, something which Emmet refuses to let her forget for the rest of the meal.

When at last the six hours have passed, Ada finds herself once more face-down on Emmet’s bed, but now she is more worried about her tired feet than her tired mind.

“You just need to wear better shoes,” Emmet is telling her.

“It’s fashion,” she snaps. “No pain, no gain.”

“But I’m sure you’d get bloody heels a _lot_ less often if you just wore sneakers for once in your life.”

She glances up at him and scrunches her nose. “Yeah, but they’re _ugly_.”

He goes to say something else, but he barely gets a sound out before he is interrupted by the ringing of Ada’s phone. For a moment, she pauses, and then she reaches for it—

Just a _second_ too late.

“Hello,” Emmet greets, shooting Ada a devious grin while she sits up and scowls at him.

“What do you mean I’m not who you were expecting?” He sounds offended, but Ada is sure that he’s not _really_. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m sure I’m much more entertaining than whoever it is you wanted to talk to.”

Ada huffs and leans against his headboard.

“Uh-huh,” he says. “We’re already planning a huge party, you know. You’ll be sorry you missed it.”

Though the phone is nowhere near her, Ada hears Nerissa laugh. Her heart soars with the sound, but she looks away from Emmet quickly, before he can measure her with that knowing look he so often sends her way in these sorts of moments.

“I’m pretty offended by that, you know.” It doesn’t seem as though he intends on giving up the phone anytime soon. “I’ve done a lot for you over the years.” He pauses, listening, and then snickers. “Yeah, _right_. I could’ve passed stats all on my own, thank you very much. I just wanted you to think you were doing something in return, since I’ve given up so much for you.”

Ada wonders if she can make Emmet hand her the phone by sheer willpower alone, or if she will have to tackle him and wrestle it out of his grip.

“You’ll miss me,” he says. “Just give it a couple days. It’s like removing a thorn from your side.” He stops, frowning. Then: “It’s a good thorn, though. One you had a sentimental attachment to and were hoping to keep around, even if you didn’t realize it.”

If it’s the latter, she will have to hit him when he’s least expecting it. Maybe she ought to throw something at him first, to slow him down? But that won’t do any good; he’s much fitter than she is, and he’d probably just throw it back at her, anyway.

In the end, though, she winds up not having to throw anything at all. After a few more seconds, Emmet lets out a sigh and says, “ _Fine_ , but you’d better start calling me too, you hear? I know I’m your _other_ best friend, but we are still best friends.”

Nerissa must say something else to him, and then he hands the phone to Ada, offering her a quick smile and a wink. To Ada’s surprise, he mouths something to her that might be _I’ll wait out here_ , and then he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

“Hi,” she says weakly, the clicking of the door ringing in her ears.

“Hey.” Nerissa’s voice is a little hoarse from her day of travelling, but Ada thinks it is sort of like honey, anyway, sweet and smooth against her eardrums. “I hope he hasn’t been giving you too much of a hard time?”

Ada laughs. “Not any more than usual, at least.”

“Well, that’s something, then.”

“Yeah.” She pulls her knees up to her chest and looks down at her toes. Wiggling them nervously, she asks, “How was your flight?”

Nerissa groans. “ _Terrible_. Stuffy and hot, and there were _three_ crying babies around me. Three! One in front, one behind me, and one across the aisle. That must be a bad omen, right? I don’t even want to see another baby again as long as I’m alive. I’m lucky all of those ones got off that plane alive.”

Nothing like a six-hour plane ride to bring out one’s murderous side, Ada supposes.

“I’m glad you didn’t kill any babies,” she offers. “Is it at least nicer now that you’re on land again?”

As soon as the question falls from her lips, she knows she doesn’t want to hear the answer.

But it’s too late, because Nerissa is already responding, a sort of joy in her tone that Ada thinks she has only heard during her long, passionate rants about world history:

“It’s so beautiful here,” she says. “So much sunnier than it is there, too. Everything seems so free, you know? And it’s _really_ cool being by the ocean. Poseidon would totally love it here. It still feels like summer. It’s all so refreshing.”

Refreshing.

Ada wishes the word didn’t stab into her heart the way it does.

“I see.” She swallows thickly. “That’s good. I’m glad. Where are you now?”

“I didn’t call right when I landed,” Nerissa confesses, but Ada already guessed that. “I’m just taking a cab into the city, now. I figured it would give us a bit more time to talk, right?”

It’s probably true. Ada focusses on her big toe and tries to push a smile into her voice as she replies, “I’m glad you waited, then.”

“What have you been doing all day?”

 _Missing you_. “Wasting time, mostly.”

“With Emmet?”

“Yeah.” She really should cut her toenails once she’s off the phone. “It’s weird to not be stressing about school, you know. Sorta empty. But we’ll keep finding ways to fill all that time.”

Nerissa says nothing for a very long moment, and Ada’s heart seems to stop beating entirely.

And then she says, “You’re not regretting your decision, are you?”

Maybe, if Ada had worked harder, she could be in that taxi with Nerissa right now, on her way to fucking Stanford or some other fancy California college, but she didn’t and she’s not, and _of course_ she regrets her decision, but at the same time…

“My family is here,” she says. “I’m glad I stayed.”

“I’m glad you stayed too.”

Ada knows how she means it, but she cannot help that it stings a bit.

“When do you move in?” she asks, because she does not want to talk about what she has or has not lost anymore.

“Tomorrow.” From the other end of the phone, Ada hears Nerissa sigh. “I’m just staying at a hotel tonight, you know, so I can be rested in the morning when I have to find a way to fit everything into one of their tiny dormitories. I wish there were a little more wall space, so I could hang some pictures, but…”

“Do you think you’ll get lonely?” The words slip from Ada’s mouth before she even realizes that they are brimming behind her lips at all, and all she can do as she registers them is hold her breath and pray that Nerissa won’t be offended.

“Probably,” Nerissa says after a moment. “But I’ll manage. And, anyway, I’ll be back at Christmas, and by then I’m sure I’ll remember why Emmet always made me want to leave so badly.”

But she’ll miss him too, Ada thinks.

“I’ll try to send pictures and stuff, when I can,” Nerissa continues. “Make sure Poseidon sees them too, okay? I’m sure he’d appreciate if you visited, when you could. You know, he’s quite the little scientist lately. Maybe you could help him with homework, too, once school is back in.”

He’s only just thirteen. Ada wonders what this all really feels like for him.

“And my parents would like it too,” Nerissa is saying. “If you visited, I mean. Avery and your dad, too. I’m sure they would appreciate the company, so—”

“Nerissa.”

She falls silent immediately, but Ada can practically hear the words she is barely just holding behind her lips.

“They’ll be fine,” Ada tells her. “I’ll be fine. Emmet will be fine. We just want you to have fun. Be happy, you know? You’ve worked hard for this, and we all know it, so…”

Nerissa doesn’t say anything for a moment. Ada can picture her perfectly, though; she is looking out the window of the cab, running her free hand through her hair as she so often does when she has something on her mind. Her eyes will be bright with worry, her lips turned down just a bit, sort of like she’s looking at a calculus problem she can’t quite work out the answer to.

Maybe it has not been so easy for her, after all.

“Okay,” she finally says. “You’re right. I know. I just…” She sighs. “I worry, I guess.”

“About what?”

She says, “I don’t want to miss anything.”

Ada glances up at the ceiling, her heart beating fast. “What’s there to miss?” she tries to joke, but it comes out just as faintly as it feels.

“It doesn’t matter,” Nerissa says quickly. “You’re right. I shouldn’t worry so much. Actually, um, we’ll be arriving at my hotel soon, so I should probably get going, anyway… I’m sure you have things to do too. I won’t keep you.”

“Wait—”

“I’ll call again tomorrow. Once I’ve moved everything in. Have a good night, Ada.”

Ada’s throat tightens. “O-okay. You too.”

And that is the end of it, one small click, and then she is gone.

***

Ada thinks that there are exactly two types of people in the world.

There are the doers, and there are the people who _aren’t_ doers.

Nerissa is, and always has been, a doer. She worked hard for countless years to learn everything she possibly could, and to do well in school even when her coursework didn’t align with her interests, _just_ so that she could achieve her lifelong dream of becoming a historian, with a degree from one Ivy League school or another.

Ada used to think she was a doer, too, but now she’s not so sure.

While Emmet planned to take a year off after graduating, to simply work, and Nerissa was consumed by her academics in order to attain a place in her dream school, Ada simply missed her shot, and now she has no choice but to stay here and figure everything out, while her best friend is in sunny California with her lifelong dreams cupped in the palms of her hands.

She knows it’s her own fault, at the end of the day. _She_ was the one who missed the deadlines, _she_ was the one who doubted herself too much to make a decision, _she_ was the one who stayed behind.

It still hurts, though, to wake up in the morning and remember that Nerissa is too far away for her to touch, now.

She doesn’t call every day, and Ada supposes that it’s probably not fair for her to wish she would. When they do talk, they tell each other about their days, and relay stories to each other, though Ada’s pale significantly compared to Nerissa’s.

It’s the last day before Nerissa’s first day of classes, though, and Ada knows that it’s unlikely they’ll be able to spend much longer than a few minutes on the phone before she has to go, preparing herself through her tried-and-true pre-school rituals. Ada has never interfered with them before, and she hardly wants to start today.

But when Nerissa calls, she’s quiet and reserved, words stretched out as if she wants Ada to savour them (and she does, of course, she always does). The excitement Ada has begun to view as typical for her is nowhere to be found, and Ada briefly wonders if, maybe, someone has said or done something to her.

“I’m sort of worried about getting lost,” Nerissa is saying to her. Ada is at the kitchen table, while Adonis prepares them a simple dinner for their otherwise uneventful evening.

“Is the campus really big?”

“Yeah.” She sounds distant. “Bigger than I was expecting, to be honest. I guess the virtual tours don’t really do it justice.”

When she laughs, it does not sound as though she finds anything very funny at all.

Ada considers asking, but only for a brief moment. She _knows_ Nerissa doesn’t respond well to “Are you okay?” or anything with a similar sentiment, after all. And though it took her a while to get that, she now that understands Nerissa’s processes without doubt. Really, she shouldn’t even need to think about what she can and cannot say; she simply knows, because she knows _Nerissa_.

Instead, she’ll just have to let Nerissa talk until the truth slips out, as it often does in these situations.

“My classes will be really big too,” Nerissa continues. “Hundreds in one class. Doesn’t that seem extreme?”

“You’ll still outshine them all.”

Nerissa exhales shortly, a poor attempt at what Ada thinks is supposed to be laughter. “Somehow, I really doubt that. Here, I’m just average, you know?”

And it clicks.

Ada’s lips twitch up a bit and she leans against the surface of the table. “No way,” she says. “You? Average? That’s crazy talk.”

“I only just met the minimum requirements to get in here,” Nerissa frets. “You know that. There are so many people taking the same classes as me who worked so much harder in high school, had much better grades, were able to juggle school with work _and_ sports, and—”

“You’ll still outshine them.”

Ada is smiling, now, despite the fact that Nerissa’s anxiety is overwhelming even through the small speaker on her cellphone.

“You’re incredible,” she continues. “You’re smart, but that’s not all. You’re passionate, and kind, and you _do_ work just as hard those people, even if you don’t realize it. You help Poseidon with his homework, and you pretty much single-handedly got Emmet through our senior year—and every other year of high school, if we’re being honest. You’re a powerful speaker, and you have _amazing_ ideas, and you do your best to ensure that everybody gets credit where credit is due, not only yourself. Your integrity is amazing. And, also, you’re gorgeous, even though you’re a _huge_ nerd. I’m sure many of your classmates there won’t be able to relate to _that_.”

There are probably a thousand other things Ada could say, all these little thoughts that overtake her whenever she sees Nerissa, her beautiful grey-blue eyes filled with excitement over the _silliest_ things—thousand-page history books, or extra-hard crossword puzzles, as if the normal ones aren’t hard _enough_ —and her smile, her dazzling, radiant smile, rare but so much more special for it. Or, maybe, there simply aren’t enough words to encapsulate those feelings, the lightness Nerissa grants her no matter how heavy everything else in the world might feel. Infinity couldn’t even begin to describe it, and yet that cosmic force which ensnared Ada long ago doesn’t seem to touch Nerissa at all, but...what could, other than the most holy of hands? Certainly not Ada’s, and yet she is still within reach, even when she’s so, so far away.

Nerissa is laughing, now, but it is a just as painful a sound as it is relieving. “That’s not true,” she says, and her voice is tight with emotion. “I really am average. You just have to say that stuff, because you’re my best friend.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Nerissa says nothing.

“You know,” Ada says, heartbeat roaring in her ears, “I’ve really never met someone as incredible as you, and I don’t think I _could_ ever find another. You deserve to be there, just as much as everybody else. Don’t sell yourself short just because you come from somewhere different than them.”

For a moment, all Ada can hear is the gentle sound of her breathing, and then she lets out a small sigh, but it does not sound unhappy. “Thanks.”

“Huh?”

“For listening,” Nerissa says. “For trying to convince me I’m being stupid—because I know that’s what you think,” she adds with a short laugh. “It’s okay. You’re right, I guess. I’m here for myself, aren’t I? I shouldn’t be comparing myself to anybody else but who I was before.”

“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t compare yourself to others,” Ada jokes. “And I don’t think you’re being stupid. I just think you’re scared, and that makes a lot of sense. I’d be scared. Even Emmet would be scared, even though he would tell you he isn’t scared of anything. But, you know, we’ll always be your family, and we’ll always be here to talk it out with you, when you need it or even when you don’t.”

“Thanks, Ada.” Her voice is quiet again, but not so distant anymore. “I love you a lot, you know.”

Ada presses her palm flat against the table, chest twisting painfully.

“I love you too,” she says, but it does not mean the same thing.

“I should probably be getting ready,” Nerissa goes on, oblivious as ever to the effect her words have had on Ada. “I’ll call tomorrow?”

“Sure.” She stares down at her fingers, splayed out against the dark wood of the kitchen table. “I hope your classes go well.”

“Thanks.” She can hear the smile in Nerissa’s voice. “I hope so too. Bye, Ada!”

“Bye,” Ada says faintly, and then she is gone away, out of reach all over again.

She sets her phone down beside her hand, and it is only when Adonis comes to the table with two plates of what she thinks is spaghetti that Ada looks up.

He doesn’t say anything as he slides one of the plates in front of her, and she’s glad he doesn’t, because she has no idea how she would ever find the words to respond.

No, infinity could not even begin to describe it.

Somewhere, halfway across the country, a half of her heart resides with Nerissa, and Ada has never quite known how to live without it.

***

“Did you ever consider becoming a chemist?”

Ada is so startled by the question she can do nothing but laugh. Poseidon’s eyes are earnest, though, like he’s truly curious, and she sets down her pencil to look at him, unable to wipe the mirthful expression off her face.

“Definitely not,” she says. “Why would you think that?”

“You just seem to know a lot about it.” He frowns. “I thought you liked it?”

She considers it for a moment. It is true that she had a lot of fun in her chemistry classes throughout high school—it was, miraculously, the one thing she was actually better at than Nerissa, though her grade was only about a percent higher by the end of the final chem class together—but she has never _really_ thought about it as a career. Really, she hasn’t thought about much of anything as a career. She enjoyed biology and chemistry in high school, and though her maths weren’t exactly her best classes, she always at least was able to make it fun, if only because she always took the same classes as Nerissa (who was, in that area, a lot better than her).

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I do, but I like other things too. What about you? Do you enjoy this?”

He’s just started school again a couple weeks ago, and they’re learning the most basics of chemistry in his science class. To Ada, it seems painfully simple, but she knows that it’ll be tricky to get the hang of for Poseidon, and Nerissa isn’t exactly here to help him out anymore.

She definitely doesn’t mind helping him herself, though. He’s a bright kid, even if he might sometimes feel like he can’t quite grow enough to fit into the shadow Nerissa has cast behind her.

But he’s an artist, not an academic. Ada thinks that the shoes he’s going to fill never could’ve belonged to Nerissa, anyway.

“It’s cool, I guess. I like science more than everything else, that’s for sure.” He scrunches up his nose. It makes him look a lot younger than he is. “Issa says that you were better than her at science, though. She never really liked it much, except maybe the history behind the theory and stuff.”

Ada blinks. “She said that?”

He nods. “She said she thought you might become a doctor or something someday, ‘cause you’re so good at all the science-y stuff you’d need to know to do it. I think she was sort of hoping you might apply to Stanford with her, but I know you didn’t want to leave your family behind.”

Ada can’t speak, suddenly.

“But she didn’t want to push you,” he adds. “She always worried about that a bit, I think.”

“About...pushing me?”

“Yeah.” He pauses, studying her carefully. “But you’re the same too, I guess, aren’t you? But Mom always says not to meddle with it.” His lips twitch up. “Dad said you _needed_ the meddling, though.”

Meddling? Meddling in _what_?

But his focus is already back on his homework. “How do you remember the difference between these, Ada? Do you just have to memorize all of it?”

She takes a moment to push aside their conversation, trying to stop the gears in her head before they can turn too far, and then leans down to inspect his work.

For the rest of the afternoon, they only talk about chemistry.

Unfortunately, it is nowhere near enough to distract her from what he’s told her, and by the time he is packing up his schoolwork, a bright smile that can only be born of true understanding on his face, Ada feels like she is going slowly insane.

“I invited your dad over for dinner,” Adrienne’s voice comes from somewhere behind her. “And Avery.”

Ada looks back at her with a loose grin. “And you’re telling me this because I have no option other than to stay for dinner too?”

“That’s right.” Adrienne winks. “I’m sure you get sick of only having your dad around for company. He really is a bore, isn’t he?”

Ada laughs. “A bore who feeds me, though.”

“Touché.” Adrienne glances at Poseidon, who has gotten up and is moving to carry his school books away. “Find a board game for us to play or something when you come back. We could do team Monopoly again.”

Poseidon grimaces. “No way. Besides, I only won because Issa was on my team, and _she_ understands the economy.”

Does one need to understand the economy to play Monopoly? Ada supposes she wouldn’t know, because she’s never won the game in her life.

“Well, choose whatever you want, then,” Adrienne tells him. “Just make sure it’s something we can win at.”

“I think that’s cheating,” Ada muses, but Adrienne waves a dismissive hand.

“Only if you tell them I said that,” she says.

Ada snorts. She really shouldn't have expected anything else.

Poseidon rolls his eyes at this before heading out of the room. Ada has a sneaking suspicion that they’ll be playing something rather brutal this evening, and she’s not sure if she’ll have enough time between now and then to prepare for the inevitable verbal (or physical, if it’s serious enough) battle Adrienne and Adonis will engage in with each other over it.

Adrienne comes further into the room and takes the seat Poseidon has just left. The joking smile has faded from her face, and now she watches Ada with serious blue eyes.

“I feel like we haven’t seen much of you,” she says after a moment. “Have you been okay?”

Ada hesitates, unable to meet Adrienne’s steady gaze.

After Adonis and Cleo’s divorce—nearly five years ago, now—Adrienne tried her best to step in as Ada’s mother figure, where Cleo never would have let her do so before. In truth, Ada _is_ grateful for it, but it’s not exactly the same as having a _mother_. Besides, how could Ada ever pour her heart out to Adrienne, when so many of her feelings were about Nerissa, or how badly she wants to kiss Nerissa, or how hopelessly, infinitely in love with Nerissa she is.

But Adrienne has known her for a very long time, and her pause is enough of an answer for her, anyway.

“Stupid question, huh?” Adrienne smiles, just a bit. “Have you talked to her much, since she left?”

Ada blinks, lifting her head to look at Adrienne, now. “Have you?”

Adrienne shakes her head. “She calls every few days, but I told her not to focus on us too much. You know how she gets.”

Every few days?

Ada furrows her eyebrows, trying to understand, but…

 _I think she was sort of hoping you might apply to Stanford with her_ …

“You didn’t answer me, you know.”

Ada starts, and she realizes that Adrienne’s serious look has morphed into something else, not quite amusement but very close to it.

“I…” She stops, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “She’s called me every day since she’s left, yeah. I didn’t know…”

Then, to her surprise, as she trails off Adrienne begins to laugh.

“I thought that might be the case,” she says, and now her tone is all warm affection, the way Ada remembers it being at the airport the last time they all got a chance to hug Nerissa, to tell her their advice to her face.

Has she even let herself be sad about it, all this time?

“Doesn’t it upset you?” she asks, feeling very small. “She’s your daughter.”

“Definitely not.” Adrienne puts a gentle hand on her arm. “No matter how far away she goes, she’ll always be with me in some way. It’s different, for you. You’ve never known life without her before. Ely and I have been waiting for this since the day she brought home her first report card. It’s hard, sure, but...I’m just glad she’s doing what she loves.”

“...Am I a bad person because I’m not glad?”

“You are, though,” Adrienne says. “I can see it in your face. It’s just harder for you, because you don’t have anything to distract you from the fact that the person you love most is so far away from you. Issa has school, and we have Poseidon, and Emmet has, well, whatever he has. I’m glad she’s talking to you, though. I imagine it’s probably the closest thing she gets to feeling at home, right now.”

Ada stares at her, trying and failing to process the words, but Adrienne is rising from her seat before she can manage to.

“We’re always here for you, you know.” Adrienne pushes the chair in and offers her a smile. “We’re your family too, after all.”

She doesn’t give Ada a chance to respond before she is moving away, headed towards the kitchen to start cooking dinner. It’s a good thing, too, because Ada doesn’t think she _could_ respond, even if she knew anything marginally close to the right words to.

Before Ada can quite manage to wrap her head around it all, Poseidon returns with a small stack of cardboard boxes in his arms. He dumps them unceremoniously on the table and grins at her.

“What do you think we should play?”

Apprehensive, Ada eyes the pile he has put before her. He hasn’t brought Monopoly, thankfully, but there are other games which she thinks could possibly be even worse.

“Don’t you get worried about your mom getting _too_ competitive?” she wonders.

“That’s why Dad is there,” he informs her. “Also why they always invite Avery to these things, too. It’s good bonding for them, you know.”

“For my dad and your mom?”

He shakes his head. “For Dad and Avery. Avery used to hate him, but now they’re both so sick of Mom and your dad that they have some common ground.”

“Huh,” Ada says, impressed that he has been insightful enough to figure all of this out while neither she nor Nerissa have ever even considered it before.

“Also,” he adds, thoughtful, “I think they have a little betting pool going. Do you think once I’m twenty-one they’ll let me join in?”

She laughs. “I don’t know, kiddo. They might let you join now, if you ask nicely enough.”

His tone is mournful as he says, “I have no money, though.”

Trying not to ruin it with a smile, she shoots him a sympathetic look. “Maybe once you have a job, then.”

“Maybe.” He throws himself into the same chair he was sitting in before with a heavy sigh. “I know who will win every time, though.”

“Oh?”

He glances around them, and then leans closer to her, conspiratorial. “I only chose games that Mom isn’t any good at.”

Ada can’t help laughing at this, and the secret, serious look on his face falls away too, replaced by a wide grin.

She thinks she has a pretty good idea of who is going to win, too.

***

When Nerissa calls her that evening, Ada decides to take a risk.

Is it really a risk, though? She isn’t so sure. Maybe the risk of it is just a fabrication, something she herself has created to give the things Adrienne and Poseidon have told her today more weight than they _really_ carry. Maybe it is meant to cover the pain Nerissa’s departure has left her with, or something to give her bored mind a reprieve, some sort of adventure that she sorely wishes she could partake in, but can’t, because the only person she wants to go on it with is halfway across the country.

Maybe, Poseidon only meant that Nerissa wanted to have a friend with her at school, someone she already knew, so she wouldn’t have to go through the painful process of finding _new_ friends. After all, Nerissa has never been very _good_ at making friends; in reality, she didn’t choose Ada at all, and it was not Nerissa who befriended Emmet first, either. They were kids, though. Everything is easier when you’re young.

She listens to Nerissa talk about how her classes are going, her voice laced with such genuine happiness Ada wonders how she ever could have tried to convince Adrienne, let alone herself, that she was unhappy with Nerissa going away from them.

She listens to Nerissa talk about her classmates, reminding Ada without ever saying anything close to it that she really _does_ outshine all of them.

She listens to Nerissa talk about the beautiful scenery around the university, and all the nice little shops she has discovered since arriving—a new favourite coffee shop, and somewhere else with the most _delicious_ pastries, which she swears she isn’t spending all her money on.

She listens to Nerissa talk, because there is probably nothing else in the world she really wants to do.

And when Nerissa is done talking, she wishes she would keep going, even if there is nothing left to say.

“My dad told me you were at their place today,” Nerissa says, now. “What’s this I hear about a fist fight over Uno?”

“There were no fists involved,” Ada assures her. “Almost, but Aunt Avery took my dad’s cards and threw them to the floor before he could get too heated about it. I think she was just tired of him playing pick-up fours before her, though. Maybe she would’ve liked to see your mom get punched, too, by the end of it.”

Nerissa lets out a snort of laughter. “Oh, I’m sure she did. I always told them I’d never play that game again, because of how dirty she plays. Mind you, that’s _every_ game, so.”

Ada’s lips twitch, but the swirling feeling in her stomach doesn’t allow her to really even smile.

“Well, Poseidon picked it,” she says. “I think he wanted to start a fight.”

“Teenage boys, huh?” There is a smile in her voice. “Was it fun, at least?”

“Less fun without you there,” Ada says, before she can really think about it.

Nerissa is quiet for a moment. Ada closes her eyes, wishing she could take the words back, and then—

“It’s less fun without you here, too.”

Ada’s eyes sting.

“Sorry,” Nerissa says, but Ada cannot figure out what for.

It doesn’t matter, anyway, because her emotions seem to hit her all at once, and before she even has a chance to think up a response, she has dissolved into tears.

Nerissa says nothing. Ada doesn’t know if that makes it better or worse.

Desperately, she scrubs at her eyes with her free hand. “I’m sorry,” she gasps. “I’m s-so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Nerissa’s voice is little more than a whisper. “I’m not good at this either, though, you know.”

Ada laughs around the sob rising in her chest. It is painful, cosmically so, like her heart really _has_ been broken in half, and here Nerissa is, holding both halves of them, anyway, and they are surely both scared out of their minds, entangled in their massive infinity, but…

“I don’t care,” she says, sniffling. “I don’t care if either of us are any good at it. I miss you.”

“Ada…”

“You should’ve pushed me.” She pauses, inhaling sharply. “You should’ve pushed me when we still had a chance.”

It is perhaps the worst thing she could have possibly said, for both of them, but she wouldn’t take the words back, even if she wanted to.

Poseidon said that Nerissa was _scared_. Well, dammit, Ada is scared too, but one of them has to get them through this somehow.

Nerissa says, “I didn’t want to make you do something you didn’t want.”

Ada leans back against her headboard and looks up at the ceiling of her bedroom, breathing hard in a futile attempt to stop her tears from quickening. It’s sort of funny, she thinks, and yet none of this is really very funny at all, and _honestly_ , she ought to be mad, yelling, telling Nerissa how fucking _stupid_ she is, but none of these things happen.

Instead, around ugly sobs, in a scratchy and pained voice, she says, “I only want _you_.”

And then she is crying harder, too much to say anything more, though there are a thousand more things to say and she thinks that it is not enough, because there will never be enough to encapsulate her feelings for Nerissa, and there will never be the _right_ words for their little infinity, and how will Nerissa ever understand her, anyway, when Nerissa has never noticed how she feels even after all these years?

Neither of them speak, for a very long time. Eventually, Ada manages to quiet her gulping breaths and wipe away her tears, though a few stray ones fall to take their place shortly after. She knows Nerissa is still there, because she can hear her breathing, calm as ever despite the storm raging within Ada.

Nerissa says, so quietly Ada might’ve imagined it, “I miss you too. I hate living without you.”

Ada stares at a spot on her ceiling, throat tight.

“I didn’t realize how hard it would be.” Ada knows Nerissa does not have roommates, but her voice is so soft, it’s as if she doesn’t even want the stars above them to overhear. “I love it here, I really do, but…I love you, too.”

And this time, Ada understands.

These words are meant for her, and only her. These words, which Nerissa has surely said countless times—to her, to Poseidon, to Adrienne and Ely, to Emmet, maybe even to Adonis and Avery—are meant for her, and only her.

 _Meddling_ , Poseidon said, and suddenly Ada wants to laugh.

They have both been so stupid, she thinks.

“You should’ve told me,” she says, even though she never said anything either.

“I didn’t know how to.” Nerissa sounds embarrassed now, and Ada can picture her perfectly: a light dusting of pink over otherwise dark cheeks, downcast eyes, one hand running through her hair in one of those little shows of anxiety she doesn’t even realize she does. “I thought, maybe—I don’t know. I wasn’t completely sure, either, myself, and I like to—to _know_ things, before—”

“Nerissa, stop talking.”

She does.

Ada wipes her nose with her sleeve, grateful she has at least run out of tears. From the other side of the line, Nerissa seems to be holding her breath, waiting, waiting, waiting.

“We do still have a chance, you know,” Ada finally says. “I didn’t...I didn’t mean that. What I said. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.” Of course she does. “Thanks for waiting for me.”

Ada doubts she ever would’ve done anything else, and she says as much.

Nerissa laughs. “I guess I could say the same, if it hadn’t taken moving across the country to figure out what it was I wanted to wait for, all this time.”

“But you’ll come back,” Ada reminds her.

“Three months,” Nerissa promises. And then, a little louder, a little more devious, she adds, “Three months to figure out a way to convince you to come back here with me.”

Ada smiles.

Somehow, she doubts it will take very much convincing at all.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always appreciated! xx
> 
> if you're interested in learning more about or reading my novel series, i post all info on twitter [@laphicets](https://twitter.com/laphicets) and tumblr [@kohakhearts](https://kohakhearts.tumblr.com)! feel free to find me for general writing updates too; i also sometimes take fic requests on both platforms!


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